


Solace

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Gingerpilot, Injured Armitage Hux, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22275997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Poe Dameron sat down upon a chair next to the bed. Hux’s eyes were closed yet he could hear him murmuring something half-audible. His fingers curled upon the blanket as tears streamed silently down his sallow face. There was something wretched and uncomfortable about seeing him this way that for a while Poe could not bring himself to speak. He had told himself that he was doing it to get information about the First Order to expedite its dismantling, that it would be a waste not to try.
Relationships: Poe Dameron & Armitage Hux, Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 13
Kudos: 119





	Solace

Poe Dameron sat down upon a chair next to the bed. Hux’s eyes were closed yet he could hear him murmuring something half-audible. His fingers curled upon the blanket as tears streamed silently down his sallow face. There was something wretched and uncomfortable about seeing him this way that for a while Poe could not bring himself to speak. He had told himself that he was doing it to get information about the First Order to expedite its dismantling, that it would be a waste not to try.

They all believed Hux would not make it through the night. Perhaps, if it had been someone else, more would have been done, but there was little about the man to stir sympathies to such heroic initiatives. The mission had drained most of what strength and courage they had, both physically and emotionally.

Nevertheless, a part of him felt his conscience troubled by dark clouds as he recalled the first urgent transmission from the general -- a call for help. For hours Poe delayed – a second, a third transmission, growing increasingly desperate in their plea. Armitage Hux was a different case from Finn, he did not repent, he was merely driven by dire circumstance and ignoble motives. A part of him felt that he deserved to die there, alone on a broken-down ship on some forlorn desert planet – after all that he had done, he may justifiably merit worse.

Poe felt his anger flare against another feeling which he knew Hux did not deserve.

He had gone alone, expecting to find the man already dead. His body lay motionless upon the floor of the ship not far from the controls; it seemed that he had passed out from pain and blood loss. As Poe leaned closer and turned him onto his back, he could feel a faint heartbeat and labored breathing against his skin, Hux’s eyes opening a fraction at the touch.

Poe said nothing, nor did the other man speak, save for an agonized sound as he was hoisted off the ground unceremoniously. Dameron tried to be more or less careful about the wound but he was not particularly delicate, wanting to get off the cold desert planet as soon as possible. He was repaying a debt and that was all, he told himself, lowering Hux into the co-pilot’s seat where he slumped like a rag doll. He seemed only half-aware of his surroundings, or perhaps not at all. Poe remembered how cold Hux's body and skin were to the touch, his stomach churning at the idea of having to remove his corpse from the ship if it came to that. He heard the man shift in his seat, and then a gasp of pain.

“Y-you came,” he tried to push aside the seatbelt that was digging into his wound.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting Hugs,” Poe said as nonchalantly as he could muster, yet somehow the words and their tone were jarring to his ears. He had no reason to feel guilty, a voice in his head tried to reassure him. Hux continued to look at him through half-closed eyes and it unnerved him. “I hope it isn’t too late,” he said at last, more somberly, forcing himself to look at Hux and pushing aside the ginger hair from the other’s forehead.

“N-no,” said Hux hoarsely, closing his eyes and leaning back in the seat again, “I was -- afraid to die, alone,” he managed to get the words out.

Poe gazed at the dark expanse of stars through the glass, his brow furrowing, yet he said nothing.

“What are you going to do with yourself, after all this?” he spoke at last, wanting to change the subject.

Poe heard a breath and could see Hux’s lips curl in a bitter sardonic smile.

“I mean it, is it going to be a waste of time getting you out of there?”

Hux did not answer, closing his eyes again.

“Alright – I’ll wake you up when we get there then”

He wondered what to make of him, if Hux had truly given up on himself.

Poe called for medical assistance in the middle of the night, telling the droid not to alert anyone else – that it was a ‘minor’ incident only.

The droid looked skeptical but complied with the order. Dameron had carried the limp and complacent body to his own quarters for the time being, hoping to explain matters in the morning rather than rouse the attention of the entire medic bay busy with patients and account for the First Order general’s presence. There was likely a long queue of people who would like to do far worse to him than just leave him to die.

As he thought about this he further questioned his own motives – in the end he knew it was the transmissions that had gotten to him, to ignore a man grasping for life – he could not bring himself to do _nothing_ , especially after Hux had saved him and Chewy, regardless of his reasons. For the sake of his conscience, if nothing else, he would do what he could.

By the faint lamplight, he began to undress the man, laying him down on the floor and removing his bloodstained clothes – resorting to cutting off the fabric of the uniform tunic and pants with a sharp knife due to the awful state of Hux’s wounds. He then let the droid set to work upon him, watching sleepily as it applied some kind of gel to the burns followed by bandages and an injection to numb the pain. All the while Hux hardly stirred, having grown weak from his untreated injuries and likely the long exposure to the cold.

He could see all the scars and bruises that Hux had accumulated, both old and new, unpleasantly noticeable against his pale scrawny limbs, only his abdomen seemed to have a bit of fat to it. It felt strange to be looking down at him, there was something vulnerable about the man’s figure which he knew he was not meant to see and he found himself touched by Hux’s unwilling helplessness. He felt almost sorry for him, realizing that even if he survived, he had little left to hope for – perhaps a swift execution, as a war criminal. Poe wondered if it might not have been better to leave him there. Fighting against such thoughts were strange, madmen’s notions – of hiding him on some remote planet to live out his life in some semblance of peacefulness, of convincing the Resistance that Hux was willing to reform and make himself useful, or even a rest period as an invalid before he was finally done for – of course these were ridiculous ideas, weren’t they? He imagined what the other would think if they heard him pleading for General Hux, he did not know if he could bring himself to do it. It felt almost like treason against all he had worked for, to let someone like that hope for a happy and peaceful life. Therefore he did not understand why the sight of him affected him so, the life of a brainwashed ginger bastard coming to nothing, laying pathetically on the floor at the mercy of his enemies. There were times in his own life when he had been afraid of a like fate, working for those who did not care what happened to him, as long as he did what he had to do. Poe was not proud of himself then, yet the excuses which he made for himself passed muster because he could see no way out of it, trusting no one but himself and living or dying by his wits. That and sheer luck.

Poe had the droid remain in his quarters in hibernation mode for the remainder of the night in case it was needed. He was more than ready to call it a night, glad to postpone any soul searching for the morning. He did not like to look too deeply into the past or the future, feeling like a man standing between two towering waves that threatened to crash down upon him in the darkness. 

Again he picked him up, carrying him into the bed and stripping off most of his own clothing before climbing under the covers. Hux lay on his side in the standard training position for unconscious victims who ought not to choke on their own vomit – subjectively speaking. Poe wondered how morally dubious a decision it was, to be spooning the former First Order general responsible for the destruction of multiple planets. He could feel the other’s cold limbs warming up from his body heat and the soft heavy blankets.

At some point during the night he remembered Hux stir from the curled up position, understandably surprised and confused to find himself in the bed of a stranger – certainly not expecting to see Dameron’s arm around him. Hux looked at him with an expression of incredulity, and then, it seemed to soften, too drained of life to protest, no matter what should happen to him. Poe forced a smile, as if to say ‘everything will be okay’, to which Hux did not respond, continuing to look at him with dazed troubled eyes. By some strange impulse, Poe began to rub his back, as he would in soothing a sickly child and found that Hux had rested his forehead against his chest, closing his eyes -- succumbing to whatever effect the other’s attempts at comfort were having. Poe held him through the night, feeling as Hux folded one arm close to his body, the other under the pillow. Warm wet tears flowed from his eyes, his hunched shoulders trembling as he tried to suppress the embarrassing emotions which overwhelmed him. Poe continued to hold him, knowing that words were futile.

On the following morning, Hux was moved to the medic bay. A feverish infection had developed and the man did not look well. Poe had been called away, returning to hear that Hux had died sometime during the evening. As a matter of indifference, his body was cremated and disposed of, leaving little to discuss. Finn wondered at his friend’s reaction, or lack thereof, as he dismissed himself and left for his quarters, saying that he was feeling tired. He could tell something was wrong, suspecting that it had to do with the mission. 

That week Poe found himself reading the files the Resistance had gathered over the years on Armitage Hux, imagining from his history what kind of man he might have been under different circumstances. He had known him mainly as General Hux, wrapped into hateful associations which were difficult to dispel, yet in his final days the weakness he had shown, despite himself, had made Armitage seem all too human. He could feel the loneliness of one who dared not let his emotions seep into reality, a touch starved longing which he had suppressed until the final hours, as Hux pressed closer to him that night, little more than a stranger whose warmth had protected him, swathing him in illusions. He could see his face still, distorting in the realm of memory. Poe felt unprepared for such things and hoped that they would not again visit him in dreams as he awoke in the middle of the night, looking at the empty bed where Hux had lain. He tried to think clearly and remember him as he was, as he had always known him. Hux had few admirable qualities, someone that was remorseless, disloyal, and arrogant -- just another imperfect figure in the machine, using his abilities without care for humanity. When at last he closed the file before retiring to bed, his eyes had lingered for too long upon the photograph of a ginger-haired boy, sullen and afraid. Poe sighed heavily, not knowing what to make of these thoughts or feelings – believing with certainty only that war was terrible thing, yet which planet, which race, which generation had lived in ignorance of it.

He wished he had met Armitage sooner, in another life, so that he need not have been alone. If in the time of youth they had both been brave enough to choose a different path. If those paths had crossed.


End file.
